


Strongest Star

by sophiagratia



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Character of Color, Feminist Themes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-13
Updated: 2010-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiagratia/pseuds/sophiagratia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Science fiction needs more strong women characters – I'm always saying that.' -- Kay Eaton, <a href="http://memory-alpha.org/wiki/Far_Beyond_the_Stars_(episode)">Far Beyond the Stars</a>.</p><p>Originally written for the July Drabblefest at <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/where_no_woman/137707.html">Where No Woman</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strongest Star

Kay Eaton smoothed her tweed lapels and straightened her pearls, studying the stark white façade of the hospital. She didn't like this. She didn't like this a damn bit, but here she was, and there was Benny, inside. She ran a hand tipped in impeccably lacquered nails across the small of her back for the hundredth time since she'd left Jules grumbling expletives to himself in their tiny Upper West Side flat. If the hard edges and right angles were visible under her blazer, she'd be in trouble. But she didn't think the guard would frisk her again, not after the last time.

Lofty heels gave her hips a confident swing as she strode through the doors. She smiled broadly at the guard, presenting her purse for inspection. He was still sporting a beautiful shiner, and damn if she wasn't proud of it. That Major of Benny's had perhaps gone to her head – but so had a lot of other things, and Jules' muttering notwithstanding, she couldn't say she was sorry for it.

Scaling concrete stairs, shutting out unsettling voices and the damp smell of bleach, she resisted the urge to run her hand down her back once more and couldn't help smiling to herself.

Herb had been on board from the start, of course. Anything to get under Pabst's skin – and in the end, he was a true believer. 'You'll have us all dragged in front of HUAC and jailed for this, Kay, you know that,' he'd growled, but there had been warmth in his voice and he hadn't hesitated even one moment to sit himself down and start typing. She'd wanted to kiss him, for that. And 'Ishka's Revenge' was a damned funny story.

Jules, of course, had resisted bitterly. 'You're out of your bloody skull!' he'd shouted. '_You_ married me!' she'd retorted. 'Of your own free will. And now you have to live with the consequences.' He'd slept on the couch for a week, but two days ago she'd had a story in her hands. Freedom fighters, at last – she liked the sound of these Maquis. She'd done more than kiss him for that. And later, he sang her to sleep, and for the first time since she'd known him, he sang in Arabic.

Albert, bless him, had just nodded, and the crisp sheaf of typewritten pages she'd found on her desk the next morning was proof that robots could, after all, be political. 'Assimilation.' She liked that – she'd use it, one day. The new girl, Pabst's secretary, Darlene, had been the great surprise. Kay castigated herself ruthlessly for thinking so little of her, before, how patronizing she'd been when Darlene had wanted to write something. But oh, had she written – a beautiful doctor who danced and wore blue, Cyd Charisse with a labcoat and gun. Pabst wouldn't like it, but when he saw the prose the girl could produce, he'd have to promote her.

Ritterhouse had needed a little cajoling into the cover – but once cajoled, he'd brought Kay's new character brilliantly to life. In spectacular, unapologetic color.

She didn't like thinking about what she'd done to get Stone to agree – in writing – to publish the thing. The character was worth it, she told herself; that cover was worth it.

She reached the door to Benny's room, watched him for a moment through the glass. He was sitting cross-legged, tapping a rhythm on the metal bedframe. Imagining new worlds, no doubt.

'Good afternoon, Mrs. Eaton – how can I help you?' came the arrogant voice of the doctor.

'It's Ms., thank you, and we'll be quite all right on our own.' Perhaps he'd conferred with the guard downstairs. He scurried off.

'Benny, hi,' she said softly, crossing the room as the door closed behind her. Benny sat smiling, tapping his rhythm. 'Hey, Benny, it's me, it's Kay.' He looked up.

'Kay! I'm glad you're here. You won't believe what I dreamed last night.' She smiled, sitting next to him on the bed. The idea flashed through her head that her mother would die, if she saw her only daughter sitting here, in a mental asylum, on a bed with a colored man. She banished the thought.

'I bet I would. I'd love to hear about it. But –' she held up a hand to forestall the onslaught of his imagination. 'But wait, Benny. First, I have something for you.' She arched awkwardly, reaching under her jacket for the book she'd hidden there. 'The new _Incredible Tales!_. Look, it's dedicated to you.' She handed him the book, open to the table of contents. The cover, she wanted to save. He ran his fingertips over the page, murmuring the titles.

'What is this, Kay?' Reading over his shoulder, she ran a hand down his arm with affectionate pride.

'You put a little steel in our spines, Benny, is all. Look – mine's at the end. I want you to read it.'

'Katharine - Connolly - Eaton,' he read aloud. He smiled wryly. 'What happened to K. C. Hunter?' She grinned.

'He's dead.' Yes. This was worth it.

Benny read, slowly, carefully. She blushed as his eyes ran over the lines. His hand, unthinking, strayed to her wrist. It was trembling.

'Kay,' he breathed at last. 'She – she's extraordinary. This is extraordinary. How on earth did you get away with this?' Her cheeks burned.

'You don't want to know, Benny. But it's out! It's on all the news stands between here and seventy-eighth street – I checked. I saw a woman buy it for her little girl. And look – look at the cover.' He looked. He laughed giddily, a hand over his mouth.

'Lieutenant Uhura...' he whispered. 'She's beautiful.' Yes, she was. She was worth it, worth everything.

'And she can _fight_,' Kay beamed proudly.

'And speak all those languages! Oh, Kay, just wait until Cassie sees this.' Kay's smile died, a little. Cassie didn't much care for her, and Kay couldn't blame her. Somehow she didn't think one story about a colored woman in space was going to change anything. Time might do that. A lot of time.

Benny caught her serious mood. 'My god, Kay, this is risky. Why – why would you do this for me?' She shook her head, taking his hand.

'We're all in this together, Benny. You know that. There are more fronts to this war than worlds in your mind – we all have our places on those lines.' He nodded gravely.

'You're right, Major. You're right.'

Kira gripped the Captain's hand vigorously across the Ops table. 'Right about what, sir? ... Sir?' His eyes opened at last. She sighed in heavy relief. 'Captain, you –'

Sisko rounded the table and caught her in a rib-smashing hug. 'Thank you! Oh, thank you.' He pulled away, held her by the shoulders, beaming at her. Bewildered, she caught her breath.

'Thank me for what, sir?' He ignored her confusion.

'Never mind, Major, never mind.' He skipped up the steps toward his office. At the door, he turned on his heel. 'Oh, and Major? Get me the Starfleet record for Lieutenant Nyota Uhura.'

Odd. 'Yes, sir,' she clipped, shaking her head.

Sisko just grinned.


End file.
